


Cam Alphabet Soup: H is for History

by GateGremlyn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alphabet Soup Challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateGremlyn/pseuds/GateGremlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A singer in the band, that's Cam Mitchell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cam Alphabet Soup: H is for History

 

_H is for History by GateGremlyn_  
  
For [](http://sg-fignewton.livejournal.com/profile)[**sg_fignewton**](http://sg-fignewton.livejournal.com/)  's Cam Mitchell Alphabet Soup! Go sample the deliciousness there.

Many thanks to  [](http://dennydj.livejournal.com/profile)[ **dennydj**](http://dennydj.livejournal.com/)     for the beta. Rated PG for a little bad language and some innuendo.

An episode tag for season ten's _The_ _Shroud_. Picks up right at the end of the episode.

~::~

The Odyssey was a big ship, a damn big ship, but not big enough that he couldn't hear Jackson complaining about his ill treatment all the way back to the infirmary. Cam covered his smile with his hand, not sure if he was allowed to smile at a general even if it was General Jack O'Neill.

“Daniel, get your ass back into bed.”

“I just got out of bed.”

“Which is why you now need to get back in it.”

“Which is why-- That makes no sense, Jack.”

“Mitchell?” General O'Neill turned around and Cam straightened up, wiping the smile off his face.

“Yes, sir?”

“Did I put you in command of SG-1?”

“Yes, sir.” Cam wanted that to be a question, but under the circumstances he kept it a statement.

“Are you now or have you ever been in charge of SG-1?” O'Neill put up his free hand--the hand not currently keeping Jackson from escaping. “Let me rephrase that. Have you ever managed to be in charge of Doctor Daniel Jackson?”

“Jack! Leave the poor guy alone. You make it sound like he's my jailer.”

“No, sir,” Cam said. “I have never been in charge of SG-1 except on paper. And I've definitely never been in charge of Doctor Jackson. I don't think he's listened to a single order I've given since I started.” That was no lie.

“Good,” O'Neill said. “I'm glad it's not just me. I'd tell you to post a guard outside the infirmary, but I don't think we have the staff for it at the moment.” With Cam's help, and with Jackson complaining every step of the way, they got a pale and shaking former prior into bed. O'Neill pulled up a chair and put his feet on the mattress. “Relieve me in four hours.”

“Oh, for the love of.... Mitchell, he's kidding.”

“I am not kidding. Now go get some shut-eye and a shower. We'll be here when you get back.”

Cam kept a straight face and even managed a salute before he left.

~::~

The Odyssey was big but not so big that he couldn't hear the giggling coming from the corner of the mess hall. He wanted a coffee to sustain him during his bedside vigil. Correction, he wanted two coffees: one for him and one to keep Jackson quiet for five minutes. He may be the new guy, but he knew all about Jackson's caffeine addiction and his penchant for long, long conversations. Even Grandma's St. Hilda's Church of the Grand Epiphany hadn't prepared him for that. He poured the coffee (cream double sugar for Jackson) and listened to Vala and Sam. He'd never heard Sam giggle, or Vala either for that matter. Somehow it didn't seem right that Samantha Carter, the SGC's premiere astrophysicist and a person who'd saved the world on countless occasions giggled. But you learned something new every day, and that was certainly true for Cam Mitchell, new guy and odd man out.

“I punched him,” Sam said proudly, “right in the face.” She held out her now-healed knuckles as proof.

“I wish I'd been there to help,” Vala said. “I would have punched him much sooner—and much harder.” She patted the hand. “Well done, Samantha. We wouldn't have been able to dial out if you hadn't found the... whatever it was you found... with the dialing program thing.”

“Do you know what Teal'c said?” Sam asked. “He said that Ba'al and I worked well together.” She stood and pulled Vala up with her. “Does he have any idea how insulting that is—Ba'al and I work well together? Really!”

“At least you didn't have a widget left over,” Cam said.

“A what?”

“Vala put together the anti-Ori device, but I think she had a widget left over.”

Vala linked her arm with Sam's. “I most certainly did not have a widget left over. I put the device together just like Daniel told me. If it didn't work, it's all his fault.”

They walked past him, arm in arm. Over her shoulder, Sam said, “Cam, I'm going to give Teal'c a break on the bridge—although I shouldn't after the way he behaved. You'll need to relieve me at the helm in few hours.”

“Got it,” Cam said. Yep, he didn't command anybody, certainly not those two. Hell, Sam should have been in charge of SG-1; she was just way too smart to actually want to do it. She commanded just by being there, and he got stuck with all the meetings. Vala, on the other hand, had never been commanded by anybody and never would be. As for him, he just behaved as a good little lieutenant colonel should and did what he was told.

~::~

The Odyssey was big, but nothing was big enough to hold Teal'c.

“Colonel Mitchell.”

“Hi, Teal'c.” Jackson was asleep and General O'Neill had gone to grab dinner and forty winks as well. Now Cam was taking his shift in the infirmary before relieving Sam on the bridge. General O'Neill would take his spot on the bridge after that, and Teal'c would spell him in the infirmary.

They functioned like a well-oiled machine, the new SG-1 and the old. Cam had wanted to be on SG-1 when SG-1 didn't exist. He'd wanted the band back together and ended up with an extra backup singer. He'd wanted the original members (no matter how reluctant) on the team. He'd begged and pleaded; he groveled; he'd finagled. He'd even thought for all of maybe five minutes that he'd really be in charge of something. All he got was the paperwork. But how did General O'Neill, way back when he was Colonel O'Neill, get SG-1 through all the shit they went through—and Cam really had read every mission report—if he wasn't in charge of his team? Maybe that was the way of the world. Maybe everybody pretended to be in charge of something but nobody really was. They could have let him in the joke, though.

“Is all well, Colonel Mitchell?”

Cam jumped. He'd lost track of the big man who hadn't moved a muscle since he'd come in to the infirmary, the man who'd come back to the team “only to aid Daniel Jackson,” the man who'd hit him-- in fairness,  it was the other Teal'c from the alternate universe had hit him—without even stopping to think about it. “Things are great, Teal'c. Other than the fact that we're sitting in an almost empty spaceship in the middle of the galaxy waiting for the war to end all wars.” Ouch. Was that whiny voice his?

“We had little choice.”

“I know.” Cam shifted on the chair. “I get the 'choiceless' thing. Been there, done that.” Far too many times. Still felt that way.

“Choiceless,” O'Neill said as he walked in the door. Cam stood and was waved to his seat. “We've been choiceless before and come out the other side okay.”

“There are always choices.” Jackson's voice was sleep-roughened and soft. “We just make the best choices we can at the time. And then we accept the consequences.”

“Damn big consequences,” Cam said. “And I thought you were going to go get some sleep, sir?  Jackson, you're supposed to be resting, too.”

“I came back for my _Hockey_ _News_ ,” O'Neill said.

“And I've slept enough, no matter what Jack tells you.” Jackson sat up and looked around. “You didn't really bring _Hockey_ _News_ with you?”

O'Neill grinned. “Sure, Daniel. I had it in my back pocket when you beamed me up.”

Daniel folded his arms and leaned back. They all ignored the wince as he did so. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

“Takes one to know one.” O'Neill pulled up a chair and sat. “Mitchell, you're going to be fine. You _are_ fine.”

“I've always thought he was fine,” Vala said.

“What is this, a party?” Daniel asked. “Who's flying the ship? More importantly, is that coffee I smell?”

“Samantha asked me to check on all of you, and I knew you'd all be here.” She slid onto the end of the bed, ignoring the “Ow!” from its occupant, and passed Daniel the coffee from the table.

“I don't think,” Jackson pushed his feet down, trying to dislodge her without spilling anything, “that Jack's talking about the way he looks when he says _fine_.”

“Well, he _looks_ fine, too, but that's not what I was talking about.” She patted Cam on the shoulder before she winked at Teal'c. “Don't worry, Muscles; he'll never take your place in my heart.”

Teal'c bowed and smiled. “I am most comforted to hear that, but I also think Cameron Mitchell is _fine_.”

Teal'c's _fine_ had Jackson spewing his coffee and O'Neill pounding him on the back.

“Gee, Teal'c, you coulda told me sooner, and without an audience.” Cam winked at Teal'c as well. “But General O'Neill beat you to it. He told me I was fine a long time ago; he even took me up in a fighter jet to do it.”

“Actually, I said, 'you're gonna be fine, Mitchell.' I don't think I said you were fine _per se_."

“But the word _fine_ did crop up?” Daniel asked.

“Don't worry, Daniel. He'll never take your place in my heart either.”

Vala poked Daniel's leg through the covers. “Is there going something going on here I should know about?”

“One little 'sleepyhead,'” O'Neill ruffled Jackson's hair while Jackson swatted the hand away, “and everybody thinks there's a thing between us.”

“There's a 'thing' alright,” Jackson growled."Now the two of you keep your hands to yourself."

Watching them, Cam burst out laughing. He laughed so hard, he had to wipe away the tears in his eyes. Kids, they were kids both of them just waiting for an audience.

Soon the mood changed. O'Neill put his elbows on the bed and Vala tucked a leg under her. Teal'c slid over a stool when Jackson pulled a piece of paper from the bedside table and spread it on the covers saying, “Here's what we've got so far.” Cam listened to the conversation, which had moved from bawdy innuendo to an intense discussion of battle strategies against the Ori, and wondered again about the burden of command.

He didn't command these people, he realized. Even Jack O'Neill had never commanded these people; they commanded themselves. They simply let themselves be placed under his leadership. SG-1 had a past, a history: Jackson and O'Neill going all the way back to the beginning of the program, Sam and Teal'c soon after. The had a past that covered life, death, and everything in between. He and Vala, the newcomers, had to earn their place on the team.

Command was never about giving orders, not with this team; it was about building a history and being a family. The original SG-1 had history that spanned a decade; a weird and kind of twisted history sometimes, if the mission reports were to be believed, but a history, nonetheless. He was damn proud to be a part of that history now. Jackson was right: you made your choices; you lived with the consequences. His choices had led him to a ship preparing for war against the Priors of the Ori. His choices had led him here with SG-1—all of SG-1.

Daniel looked up, sliding the paper toward him. “Cam, what do you think?”

He leaned in to join the conversation.

~::~


End file.
